


moving right along

by sagetriestowritestuff, thehotzone



Series: and they were roommates... [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Gen, Roomie AU, and they were roommates..., zukka nation come get y'all juice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 08:21:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26350030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sagetriestowritestuff/pseuds/sagetriestowritestuff, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehotzone/pseuds/thehotzone
Summary: [Aang offered him a smile. “Hey, you, me, Katara, and your new roommate can have a get-together soon, okay? It'll be fun."Sokka dug his toe into a crack in the hardwood floor. "I guess.”“You love meeting new people. I’m sure you’ll warm up to whoever answers your listing.”“Yeah. I'm sure they won't be, like,” Sokka frowned, “a rich asshole with anger issues or anything."For reasons unknown to the both of them, they lapsed into a brief second of silence. ]///Or: Sokka needs a new roommate. Things don't go as planned.
Relationships: Sokka & Zuko (Avatar)
Series: and they were roommates... [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1911754
Comments: 17
Kudos: 67





	moving right along

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is a collab with the author "sagetriestowritestuff," who came up with this fantastic idea. Enjoy!

B E A N I E W E E N I E S. 

This was what the magnets on the refrigerator spelled. It was enough to make a grown man cry, which was exactly what Sokka hoped to avoid. Beside him, Aang hitched his duffel bag higher onto his shoulder. He, too, stared at the magnets, his eyes shining with unshed tears. 

"Hey," Aang said. "Do you remember that one time when—?" 

Sokka let out a watery snort. "Yeah, and you—"

"And Katara—"

"Yeah."

They sighed in unison, rustling the nest of papers stuck to the fridge. There was a copy of Aang's first midterm grades, Sokka's portrait of Appa (which Katara liked to call cave-man art), and a small baggie of what would appear to be coke at a cursory glance. Above it all, pinned by a ladybug-shaped magnet, was a polaroid. The photo was a mess of limbs and flushed cheeks against the white-and-brown backdrop of Iqaluit. Aang was in the center of it all, sandwiched between Sokka and Katara and stuffed into an oversized, orange parka. His grin was at full force: eyes scrunched closed, teeth showing, and double peace signs thrown up for the world to see. 

Sokka drew in a shaky breath.

"If you cry, I'm gonna cry," Aang warned.

"I'm not crying," said Sokka, who was crying, a little.

They both wiped at their eyes and shuffled into the common space. A couch monopolized a third of the room, and Sokka had to squeeze past it to leave the kitchen. Taking up another third of the floorspace was a frog-shaped beanbag chair. Its name was Froggie, and it gazed up at Sokka with sad, plastic eyes.

Sokka swallowed back another swell of grief. Apartment 9A had been home to him and Aang for just over three years, and they'd spent the better part of those three years cultivating the perfect living space: it was, in short, a paradise. After all, what is paradise if not a frog-shaped beanbag chair in the common area? A plastic yard flamingo near the toaster? A rubber ducky dressed like a dentist perched in the shower? 

And yet, one of its architects was leaving.

Aang flung himself onto the frog and sank several inches into its stuffing. He waved a hand in Sokka's general direction, which was Sokka’s cue to flop belly-first onto the beanbag.

Aang shot a foot into the air. He landed on the floor with a muffled _oof._ “I’m going to miss that,” he said from the ground. 

"Ugh." Sokka threw an arm over his eyes. "I hate it here."

"No, you don't."

"No, I don't," Sokka agreed, and he leaned over to place a hand on Aang's shoulder. “You sure you don't want to take anything else? Dr. Sensei feels at home in _any_ shower.” A grin spread across his face. “Remember—”

The tips of Aang's ears reddened. "Yes," he said, hastily. "I remember—that."

"And—"

 _"Sokka,_ you said you wouldn’t talk about that.”

"Yeah but this is—" Sokka gestured to the apartment, "—this is a momentous occasion. I've been preparing you for the outside world for practically your entire life—"

"—three years is—"

 _"—and,"_ Sokka continued, mushing his finger into Aang's face, "now, you're leaving the nest. I've taught you so much, and learned nothing in return. Perfectly balanced, as all things should be."

Aang merely raised both his brows. "How many people in this room never miss Saturday yoga?”

"Mmlewo," Sokka muttered.

"What was that? I couldn't quite hear you."

"Two."

"Huh?"

"TWO," Sokka thundered, then pulled back with a grin. "There. I got a pretty good look at you." 

They collapsed into a fit of giggles that faded when Aang stood. "Um, but yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck. “We built this apartment together. I wouldn’t want to take any of it away.”

“Appreciate it, buddy. You can visit me at any time. You know that, right? Like, if you need it, my door is always open. For literally anything. Like—"

"Thank you," Aang said loudly.

"—because Katara can be pretty overbearing, so if you need to—"

"Thank you, Sokka—"

"—consider this apartment the All Pleasures Allowed Abode.”

“I’m leaving.” Aang lunged for the door and flung it open. “But I'll call you tonight?” He offered Sokka a smile. “Hey, you, me, Katara, and your new roommate can have a get-together soon, okay? It'll be fun."

Sokka dug his toe into a crack in the hardwood floor. "I guess.”

“You love meeting new people. I’m sure you’ll warm up to whoever answers your listing.”

“Yeah. I'm sure they won't be, like,” Sokka frowned, “a rich asshole with anger issues or anything."

For reasons unknown to the both of them, they lapsed into a brief second of silence. 

"Alright, well." Sokka clapped Aang on the shoulder. "I'll miss you."

Aang stepped out the door. "Same here.”

"Yeah."

"Okay, I'm leaving now."

"Alright."

"Sokka, I am closing the door."

“Okay, do it coward.” 

“Okay, I am.”

"Alright, bye," Sokka spoke as the door closed, "drive safe, I love you, don'tdodrugsgoodluckwithKatara—"

The door closed, and silence fell.

Sokka pressed his back against the door and slid to the ground. "Alexa," he called out, "play my jam."

Alexa did not play his jam, because there was no Alexa. And there was no Aang to hum the first song that came to mind, which meant Sokka couldn't jab a finger in his general direction and say _mute,_ which meant—

Sokka scrubbed a hand down his face, tugging at the skin beneath his eyes. "Jesus," he said, and he swore his voice echoed. He thunked his head against the door and let out a sigh so massive it disturbed a cloud of dust-bunnies. Sokka watched them skitter across the floor. "I literally just vacuumed," he told them.

The dust-bunnies did not reply.

Sokka lingered by the door for a minute more, rubbing his hand along the shaved sides of his head. Then, he hauled himself to his feet with a grunt. He had finances to reorganize, an apartment to clean, and a listing to finish. 

**^^^**

Sokka collapsed into his chair. He cracked his knuckles, then his neck, his spine, and lastly, his toes. “Crunchy man,” he murmured, opening his laptop. He pulled up a blank document, blew out a breath, and... 

"Hm," he said. "Hm. Hm. _Hm."_ He wiggled his fingers. Flexed his wrists. Rested his fingertips on the keyboard. He wrote:

WANTED: ROOMMATE.

"No, no, _no."_ Sokka jabbed the backspace button and rewrote:

ROOMMATE WANTED.

"Absolutely _not."_

This continued for the better part of the hour until Sokka settled on his original title, and the listing read as such: 

WANTED: ROOMMATE

_The name's Sokka Tookoome, rhymes with 'Okka ‘Ookoome, and I'm looking for a new roommate for at least throughout the next academic year. I'm 24M and currently earning my master's at Ba Sing Se University. The apartment's got the following:_

_2 Beds_

_1 Bathroom (full)_

_Kitchen (all amenities)_

_Washer and dryer (in the basement of the building)_

_Couch_

_Beanbag_

_859 square feet_

_The goal is to split the cost for rent, utilities, and groceries, but the last part can be negotiated. Rent is due on the last Tuesday of each month, and as I already said, it'd be ideal if you're looking to stay through the end of the next academic year._

Next were the photos. They were angled in such a way so that all of Sokka’s and Aang’s weird baubles were out-of-frame. The photos showed honey-colored hardwood floors and off-white walls. Aang's bedroom—now empty save a bedframe—faced east, and beams of gold streamed through the windows, highlighting a small but neat space. 

Sokka ended the listing with his email and number. He read it over once, twice. Then, before he could skim it a third time, he clicked post.

“Okay.” Sokka leaned back. “Wow. Okay.” He had a sudden, bizarre urge to delete the listing and throw his laptop away. Instead, he drummed his fingers atop his desk. The offers would start rolling in soon, he was sure. 

Three minutes later, he glanced to see a new message in his inbox. 

“Hello, what’s this?”

It was from Katara. She had gone mountaineering with Aang a week ago, and they’d been ambushed by a downpour. Her phone was waterlogged; she’d been emailing Sokka whenever she wanted to talk to him. It read: 

Subject: ?????

_Did you tell Aang your apartment was called the All Pleasures Allowed Abode?_

Sokka rolled his eyes, and a new email appeared. 

_Don’t roll your eyes at me._

“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” he mimicked. Then:

_Don’t mimic me either._

Surreptitiously, Sokka checked his webcam. It was still covered by a piece of masking tape: the NSA/hackers did not need to see the inner workings of his life for free. He typed back a quick response: _katara shut UP i’m waiting for an Email from my new roomie_

 _Good luck,_ came the reply a few minutes later, which was nice, until: _you'll need it._


End file.
